The Adventures of Little Took
by Pam RavenHeart
Summary: A morning in the life of Peg Took. One-shot for now but may evolve into a multi-chapter depending on whether Peg or Mrs Robin gets her way.


AN: This one is a bit of an experiment. Peg appeared one day and asked to be written, so I gave it a shot. Let me know what you think :) (Of course I don't own anything)

 _Chapter one – in_ which _Peg wakes up_

It was, in every way, a very pleasant morning. The sun had just begun to rise above the treetops, a little stream jumped merrily over rocks and bumps in her way, strengthened by yesterday's rain, and in the tree above the Took family home, a robin was singing merrily:

 _The sun goes up  
And dries every drop  
I think I might hop  
To the next tree-top_

"Writing your own rhymes again?" the robin's mate asked drily "Why won't you just stick with the old favourites?"

"Maybe I'm trying to create new favourites, dear!" he chirped.

" _Trying_ being the key word. Now keep it down or you'll wake _her_."

She inclined her head towards the nearest window, through which you could see a small hobbit girl sleeping, stretched out all over her little bed. One foot was dangling over the side of the bed, and one hand bent above her head and buried in the great mess of curly, brown locks.

"The little Took?" the robin laughed "She is a joy, isn't she?"

"Oh yes! A real delight for my eardrums!" his partner agreed, and if robins rolled their eyes, she would have done so "Loves to sing, but cannot carry a tune. Bumbling about all day long. A preposterous, noisy child if you ask me, no respect for her surroundings…"

"Oh look! She's waking up!"

"Another day ruined then…"

"I do love your optimism darling!"

"Shut your beak!"

The little girl in the bed was indeed waking up. How could she not with the lovely chirps of her robins filling her ears? With a goofy grin on her face, she stretched her arms towards the ceiling, planted both of her fuzzy feet on the floor, and got up just in time to hear her father call from the kitchen.

"Peg! Breakfast! Hurry now before it's all eaten!"

Margaret Took knew that, when her father was concerned, this was a very real threat. Thus she hurriedly pulled on her clothes – green trousers and a yellow shirt –, tied her hair back as well as she could with a piece of string and combed her toes a little (she liked them neat and tidy) before running out of her room, slamming the door as she went.

"Morning dad!" she called happily, jumping onto a chair and grabbing the kettle "Is Frodo coming today?"

Pippin shook his head at his daughter, who had somehow already spilt jam on the table, and tried to contain a laugh at her eagerness.

"Yes, the entire Gamgee family is coming, as you have known for a week… One piece of toast at a time Peg!"

"Fowwy!"

"It's all right, just be careful. And don't speak with food in your mouth, it's not polite."

Peg obeyed, resulting in her staying quiet for the remainder of the meal. The female robin outside drew a sigh of relief and Pippin smiled an amused smile. His Peg wasn't clumsy, not really. When she wanted to, she was just as quick and stealthy as any young hobbit, but she just didn't know how to slow down. Everything had to happen at once and all answers had to be had right away. 'Wait' was probably her least favourite word.

"I can't wait to hear uncle Sam's stories!" she exclaimed as soon as she had swallowed her last mouthful of tea, further proving Pippin's point "Do you think he'll tell me a story?"

"I tell you stories all the time, dear."

"Yes, but I've already heard all of yours."

"As I am sure you have heard all of his at _least_ five times."

"Well… Sam's stories are better! Yours are actually a bit boring, dad."

Ouch! That one hurt. But oh how Gandalf would have laughed had he heard her! The child was honest to a fault. Pippin would readily admit that Sam was probably the better storyteller. He knew that he did not possess the fine finesse of blending light with darkness, excitement with trepidation. He simply retold the events as they had happened. Perhaps he should have Sam tell the stories of his own and Merry's adventures. Maybe then Peg would see that they were far from boring.

"Go and feed your critters, you insolent child!" he laughed, gently nudging her out of the room and shoving a bucket into her arms "And then you had better tidy your room up, or I'll tell Frodo and the others that you can't play."

"If I'm _really_ quick, can I have a biscuit?"

"I'll tell you what. If you're done before second breakfast _and_ do it properly you can have two."

And so she was off, out through the round door, and running downhill towards the pens where the animals were kept. Seeing that his daughter had not tripped over any sticks or stones on her way, Pippin turned back to clearing the table. Had he looked out the window again when Peg started singing one of Bilbo's old songs, he would have seen one robin cover its head with its wings, and another – seemingly shaking with laughter.


End file.
